and the mist upon the hill
by achieving elysium
Summary: Post-BoO, solangelo. Will is dying, and a little birdy is sending him flowers to follow him to the grave.


**and the mist upon the hill**

_"..and the mist upon the hill  
>Shadowy-shadowy-yet unbroken.."<br>from Spirits of the Dead, Edgar Allen Poe_

for my dear kitty: happy seventeenth birthday; all hail the Queen

* * *

><p>Will Solace took a deep breath as he aimed, exhaling as he released the arrow. It flew true; as usual, the arrow plunged into the center of the target. Next to him, Katie also released her own arrow, hitting extremely close to the bull's eye. She sighed before grabbing another arrow, turning to look at him.<p>

"Go on, Solace. You know I'm not going to hit it anytime soon." He rolled his eyes. She was a very good shot for someone who tended to trip over her own plants and walk into walls. ("Plants like me too much," she would protest. "and walls are friends.")

"Of course you will," he told her. He was interrupted.

"Will!" Alyss called him from the 200-yard section. They were split into sections, starting from 100 yards and going up to 300. When you hit at least five arrows in the bulls-eye, you moved up a level. So to speak.

"See you later, Katie," he said. She grunted in acknowledgement.

"Will!" his sister cried again, and he jogged to the station next to her, grinning. She was already on her fourth arrow; he would have to beat that.

The arrows made a tight ring in the center. He focused, the sounds around him fading away and the only thing standing out was the blue-and-red target set up. Another hit, but this one was off by centimeters.

He reached back to draw another arrow and found nothing. When he slung the quiver towards his front, it was filled with-

_Flowers. _Alyss stared. Where the arrow had once been, a mix of small white and pink flowers bloomed. There were tons of them, and he gently tugged them out to study. They were pretty, he supposed. They were the kind of flowers he'd expect to see growing in some distant meadow.

A small hand found its way to his shoulder. He turned in surprise to meet Katie's eyes. She was smiling sadly.

"A little birdy told me to give them to you," she said quietly, looking away. "They're Armenian thrift flowers."

He blinked. "They're _what_?"

Katie rolled her eyes and repeated the words. "They represent sympathy. Someone's sorry for you."

Next to him, Alyss paled and grabbed his hand. He let the bow drop - surely, surely, no one knew.. He'd made sure no one knew. None of his siblings were allowed to tell; he'd know if they were lying, anyway.

He could only roll the long, thin stems between his fingers and hum, frowning.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Solace," a familiar voice said. A smile found its way onto his face.<p>

A minute later, a smaller, black-clad body sat down next to him. By instinct, he reached out and grabbed Nico's hand in his own. The other boy hesitated for only a second - still unused to this new, strange contact between the both of them - before squeezing Will's hand.

When Nico spoke next, his voice was heavy. Sad. "Alyss told me, you know."

His blood ran cold, and he swore his heart stopped beating for a second. He turned fast, legs pressing against the side of the seat. He hadn't wanted to tell his friends for this reason; he wasn't sure he could handle _this. _

He didn't want to watch their hearts slowly freeze and shatter, a million shards of glass. He didn't want to watch this, this.. the same things he'd been seeing all his life, having a nurse as a mother and working at the hospital. He'd seen it far too much to see it strike home.

He swallowed back the words he was about to say, instead murmuring,"Nico."

Nico's dark eyes did nothing to help. Before he could say anything - words of comfort, maybe, or an apology, even an explanation, he found himself being tackled by a hug. Nico buried his head in Will's chest, grabbing the back of his shirt in fists. He wrapped his own arms around the smaller boy, his heart squeezing painfully.

"No," the boy was mumbling. "Please, _gods, no. _I can't lose you, I can't.. not you.. _please. Not again._" A giant wave crashed over them both - he was choking, gasping for air and fighting to keep his head above the surface - sweeping them away, and he gripped Nico tightly and prayed that he would never have to let go.

* * *

><p>Hands wrapped around him - hands pressed against his legs, hands pressing his arms to his side, hands gripping his shoulders. If they didn't hold him, he'd probably hurt himself even more.<p>

In his blurring vision, he could make out Dean, calling instructions. His brother then grabbed the syringe, moving closer and gently tipping his head back.

"We're here, okay?" he whispered into Will's ear, and then the syringe plunged into the side of his neck. Something cold started making its way through his body. There was another prick in his arm, another in some other place he couldn't tell because-

There was someone breathing heavily behind him, breath warm on his neck. He turned; the image flickered. For a second, it was Dean, and then, and then it was a giant with grosteque features, bringing a club down hard on his skull. It shattered; he was screaming, something warm trickling from his eyes - maybe blood, he couldn't-

_"-hold him,"_

A knife found its way into his stomach, and then, no, it wasn't a knife anymore.. it was a syringe, filled with a clear liquid. He opened his mouth to scream again, and lava filled his mouth, burning down his throat. He kicked out, clawing - there was something holding him.

_"-'ab.. arms, the feet.. ess.." _

If it was a him, anyway. The pain slowly ebbed, and a low voice was singing something.

_"..Min.. ming to Camp, come on, Solace, if I.. sing, you gotta... ing, too." _Min? What was Min? Was that his name?

No. _Solace. _The voice was so, so familiar.

The things he'd seen began to disappear into wisps of smoke. Things began to focus; there was something bright in front of him, bright yellow..

_"You better watch out, you better cry, you better run, or you're gonna die, 'cause the Minotaur is coming to Camp, come on, Solace, if I have to sing.." _

He recognized this voice singing inside his head, and he also recognized Jane's bright yellow jacket. The wisps of smoke began to move, and then they turned into shapes - an arm there, a hand there, some other things he couldn't quite make out.

_Nico di Angelo, _he said in his head. _I love Nico di Angelo. My name is Will Solace; I am seventeen years old. I am dying. I am still alive.. I am at Camp Half-Blood in New York. I am with my siblings in the Apollo cabin. I am a demigod. I'm not normal, but that's okay. I like mint ice cream and playing cards.. _

It took him ten minutes to remember a lot of things about himself and to find himself in the Apollo cabin. It took him another five to realize that he'd told himself two very important facts that he hadn't repeated to himself before.

One, he loved Nico. Two, he was dying.

* * *

><p>Someone pressed a glass in his hand; he drank it immediately, downing it in one swallow. Whatever was in the glass - it was good. Champagne, maybe, something that made him feel like he could fly.<p>

It was August 18, 2014, and Camp Half-Blood was having the biggest party it had ever seen. First of all, they'd saved the world again. (Which was, of course, a good thing. It meant the world was whole enough to let them have the biggest party they'd ever seen.) It was also the anniversary of the Battle of Manhattan, Percy's birthday, and the day Percy and Annabeth had gotten together.

So, naturally, everyone wanted to party.

Someone (or multiple someones - everyone knew who, by the amount of fake coughing fits) had decided to bring the Party Ponies, which explained the random screams of terror - or maybe excitement, and the Party Ponies decided it wasn't a party without real ponies and champagne. And everything else.

He passed Percy, clasping him on the shoulder and wishing him a happy birthday. He passed Dionysus, who had a wine glass (filled with actual wine!) in one hand and who also happened to be kissing a beautiful, dark-haired woman - Ariadne, he guessed. Then his brain processed what he'd just seen - Mr. D, the man who yelled at every camper and played pinochle and wore stupid leopard print shirts and started the Camp Mini-War of 2011 (in which the campers and Mr. D tried to see who could get the other more pissed off), was _kissing_. Ew.

He turned away quickly and came face-to-face with Nico di Angelo.

"Hi, Solace," he said, and before he could say anything back, the younger boy grabbed his shirt, pulled him closer, and pressed his lips on Will's cheek just shy of his mouth. Then, he handed him a bouquet of flowers.

He was smart enough to know there were two different types of flowers: one kind was smaller, white flowers with streaks in the center of each petal, and the other looked more like a rose, but the petals were almost pointed, and they didn't have that weird thing that just screamed roses.

"What are they?" he asked.

A ghost of a smile flickered on Nico's face. "Asphodel flowers and camellias," he told him.

Will almost choked, thinking about his impending doom. "And what do they mean?" he breathed.

Asphodel flowers, surely named after the fields in the Underworld, where the only living souls were Hades and Persephone - the other beings, too, if you counted. The land of the dead.

"My regrets follow you to the grave, and camellias mean good luck, but also gratitude. A little birdy wants to tell you that their regrets follow you to the grave, and they thank you and wish you good luck."

These flowers - such beautiful things, but so fragile..

* * *

><p>It was the Olympian follow-up party.. a.k.a We Totally Had a Party Yesterday but We Should Party More so Here's an Excuse. No one minded of course - him especially - but he <em>did <em>want some quiet.

The gods didn't really hold back at all. It was enough to drive anyone insane.

"Solace," Nico said, slipping up next to him. He almost dropped the plastic cup he was holding, and red punch sloshed inside of it.

"Don't do that," he said, not harshly, his voice rough. Nico grinned at him, enjoying the expression on his face, and he rolled his eyes.

"I'm going to explore. Want to come with?" He took a moment to realize what Nico was saying.

Then he shrugged. "Why not?"

They ended up in the Olympian gardens, after quite a long time of walking into wrong places at the wrong time and more than once stopping to admire Annabeth's work. (Even the pillars were perfect. He had stopped to stare at freaking _pillars._)

The stone bench was smooth and cold - and very uncomfortable. He fidgeted, staring at the flowers growing all over the place and the fountains and the giant marble bust of Zeus in the very middle. Which hadn't surprised Will at all when he'd spotted it; the king of drama had always been the type of person to order a statue of himself wherever he could manage it.

Nico swung his feet back and forth, and the two of them sat in companionable silence.

He suddenly wished he could kiss Nico, or hold him, or do something that would've felt so out of place that it would end up being the exact opposite of what he'd been aiming for. So instead he got up, dusted off his jeans, and extended a hand.

"Want to dance?"

His - dare he say it - non-official, sort-of-kind-of boyfriend stared at him, giving him a disbelieving look and raising one eyebrow. He kept his hand out, and Nico kept staring at him.

"Come on, Nico," he said, the words sliding off his tongue. "Dance with me."

"I don't dance, Solace."

Instead, he just grabbed Nico's arm and pulled him up, putting his arms around his waist. Nico yelped and glared at him, but he relented and put his arms around Will's neck. A thousand butterflies filled his stomach, and he moved back a little.

They danced awkwardly - Will half-stepping on Nico's feet and trying to lead them, Nico laughing every time he was stepped on and trying to show Will how to dance. And the idiot said he didn't dance. Finally they just gave up and stood there together, their only witness the stupid marble bust of Zeus.

And then Nico kissed him - really kissed him this time, and all thoughts of death and hippie Zeus' left him.

* * *

><p>Angela Solace was 43 years old, much, much older than him - yet he was so much more closer to the end of his life than she was to his. And here he was, with Jay putting a hand on his shoulder in reassurance, standing in front of his mom's door. Hesitating.<p>

And then he realized he was hesitating, felt slightly disgusted by himself (what kid who loved their mom _waited _outside their mom's door? Oh, right. Him.). Before he could regret anything, he rapped sharply on the door three times with his knuckles.

Apparently, he mused, his mother had quit her job as a nurse and had become a professor at NYU. And then a terrible thought struck him - had she taken the job, perhaps, for him? Not entirely, no, but he had been planning on going to NYU next year...

Except there wouldn't be a next year, would there?

"Will! Jay!" His mom cried, opening the door and ushering them in. She was still the most beautiful woman in the world, with her pale blonde hair starting to turn white, wearing a green dress with a swirling pattern that was so _her, _her blue eyes clear.

They perched at the breakfast bar/counter as she made tea. They migrated to the dining table, sunlight streaming through the large windows. He stared outside, a cup of steaming tea in his hands. New York, at least, had stayed constant in the roller coaster that he'd been riding over the past few - what was it? Months? _Year? _

Angela sat down across from them at the dining table, setting her cup down on the glass surface and staring at the two of them hard. Her blue eyes were serious.

"What's going on, boys? You show up unannounced at my door a week before college starts. There's obviously something going on - and both of you are here, too." Ah, there she was. Blunt and down to business as usual.

He reached across the table, grabbing her frail hands in his own.

"Mom," he said, and his voice broke. He couldn't do it, couldn't tell his mom that he would never attend her class, would never pass on the Solace legacy, would never drink tea at one in the morning with her again, or run in the hall of their apartment, or slide down the banister of the stairs, or carry her groceries, or..

Dear gods, he was going to fucking die.

Jay grabbed him in a hug, and he clung to his older brother for support. He could feel his eyes burn, and his throat began to clog up. He wiped furiously at the tears that formed and reached across to grip her hands - maybe for the last time. He held them tight, lingering on this thought.

"Mom," he said, choking the words out past a half-formed sob. "I'm dying, Mom. I'm dying."

* * *

><p>He excused himself, sticking the training sword into its sheath and putting it to the side of the arena with the others. Walking amongst the sparring pairs, Percy paused to meet his eyes. He knew - all the counselors did - and Percy just jerked his head towards the exit. <em>Go. <em>

He nodded, jogging out and leaning against the low wall encircling the arena, pressing his fingers to his temples. Stars burst in front of his eyes; he slumped against the wall and closed his eyes.

The migraines were coming more and more often now. He would be in the middle of something, and he'd have to stop for a moment and wait it out. Sometimes the pain would be so bad that he would almost pass out.

It wasn't unbearable today, but his head felt like an anvil was being pounded against it over and over. A thought sparked in his slightly feverish mind. With fumbling fingers, he untied the healer's pouch from around his neck and opened it, shaking. He kept ambrosia and a few useful herbs in there.

He broke the ambrosia into smaller chunks and popped one in his mouth. The taste of his mom's twenty-minute-rush-out-the-door mac n' cheese exploded on his tongue, and he sighed in content as the pain eased just a bit.

And then he slipped a small pill bottle out of his pocket and unscrewed the top, throwing his head back and downing a pill - painkillers, though only a small amount. His pain faded to a dull roaring, and he sighed in relief, closing his eyes in sheer exhaustion.

This would be his last medication of the day; he'd had more ambrosia than safe and about three pills already. If he had anything more, he'd get even more sick than he already was. He didn't know medicare inside and out completely, but he knew more than enough to know that wasn't entirely too healthy.

He leaned against the wall for another moment, prayed to the gods, and began making his way back to swordfighting.

* * *

><p>"Will, if you're up to it, it's your shift!" Jay called. His older brother had decided on returning to Camp Half-Blood on an unplanned-for break. He looked up from reading <em>More Than This <em>on the porch of Cabin One.

"Oh, okay," he said, a little regretful. (It was a good book, alright?)

They'd had a monster attack a little while ago, so the Apollo kids were busy taking shifts to take care of the injured. He hadn't been in the thick of the battle - between his siblings and Nico, there wasn't a chance of _that _- still the working medic.

He headed for the Big House, waving at Chiron as he did. In the infirmary, he met up with five of his other siblings, all preparing. He slapped on a pair of gloves and took over his section, getting straight to work.

Abigail - the thirteen-year old from Cabin Six - was fast asleep when he slid into her room. He smiled at the sight and did a quick check-up on the nasty gashes a hellhound had given her. They'd been pretty deep, and next to that, she'd broken an arm, so he kept her here.

Everything was healing nicely. He rewrapped the bandages and moved on.

His next patient was Lou Ellen, who was sitting up in bed, playing with cat's eye marbles. She was doing what he'd told her not to do, which was using magic to levitate them.

"You know you're not supposed to do that," he told her, unable to keep the amusement off of his face. "You're already pretty weak. Using magic is going to drain at you."

She narrowed her eyes at him and shook her head. The marbles moved to form letters.

_Y-O-U. K-N-O-W. I. D-O-N-T. C-A-R-E. _

"Don't come crying to me," he said. "Let me check your ribs?"

She nodded, lifting up the too-big t-shirt to show him her wrapped ribs. He unwrapped them, gently probing at her side with soft fingers. He wound the bandages around them tightly again.

"Knee?" he asked. She let the shirt drop and pushed the blankets back. "Does it still hurt?"

She bit her lip. _Y-E-S. _

He checked that, too. There wasn't anything out of order, her knee still black and blue, the muscles damaged. Ouch.

"You want painkillers?" he asked her. She thought about this for a moment.

_P-L-E-A-S-E. I-T. H-U-R-T-S. L-I-K-E. A. B-I-T- _He moved the levitating marbles aside before they could form the last letter, and she laughed, pointing at the door. He exited, heading for the medical supplies. It didn't take him long to find the painkillers (pill form, as Lou liked them.) and to grab a bottle of water.

When he came back with both, Lou was still playing with the marbles, but she was holding something he hadn't noticed before - a bouquet of flowers.

"I didn't know you had flowers," he said, popping the cap off and tipping two pills into her hand. "Swallow them with water, please. I didn't take that long, did I?"

She obediently swallowed the pills, the painkillers working almost immediately. Her eyes drooped; painkillers took you out of it. She fought to keep them open, though, wriggling her fingers in the direction of her lap.

_B-I-R-D-Y. P-E-R-I-W-I-N-K-L-E-S. P-R-I-M-R-O-S-E-S. _Periwinkles - his mother grew them in flowerpots on the kitchen counter. He took the flowers, not surprised but still slightly frantic. Who was this little 'birdy'?

He turned back towards his patient. "What do they mean, Lou?"

She gave a little tired moan, and his heart filled with guilt. He needed to know, though - and Lou agreed. She gave up on the marbles, using enough energy to keep them in the air and reaching towards the nightstand next to her bed.

She found a pen and piece of paper, scribbling something before setting it down. Her eyes fluttered again, and her head lolled to the side. He grabbed her and eased her into the bed, glancing at the note as he did.

_I had sweet memories with you, and I can't live without you. _

He gathered the fallen marbles with shaking fingers, the note burning a hole in his pocket.

* * *

><p>He winced as the stone made another <em>ping <em>against the window, hoping that his plan wouldn't send the harpies wouldn't run for him. He looked around. No chicken ladies here to devour him.

_Ping. Ping. Ping. _He threw a few more stones at Nico's window, realizing this was possibly the cheesiest thing he'd ever done in his entire life. _Ping. _

Finally, the dark curtains of the Hades Cabin drew open, and a half-asleep Nico stared at him. Will winced a little and gave a sheepish half-wave. The boy gave a very audible sigh and shut the curtains. A few minutes later, he showed up next to Will and grabbed his arm, pulling him behind the cabin.

"It's two in the morning, Sunshine. What could you possibly want?"

"I could think of a few things," he said without thinking, shooting Nico a grin. The boy froze, blushing bright red and pushing at his chest. He held his hands up in surrender.

"I missed you, actually," he confessed, and Nico groaned. The son of Hades ran a hand through his already-messy hair.

"That doesn't change the fact that it's _two in the fucking morning, Solace._" He blinked.

"Come on," he said. "I don't get to see you anymore these days."

Nico stumbled after him, muttering curses under his breath. "Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise, _di Angelo." _He got a groan in response.

"You know I hate surprises." Will just chuckled and pulled Nico along with him, heading for Camp woods. There was a dagger in an arm sheath if needed to defend himself against the things that would go bump in the night.

It wasn't too far into the forest, though. The moon cast just enough light for him to see where he was going, and he found the rope-and-wood ladder easily. He let go of Nico reluctantly and grabbed the ladder, beginning to pull himself up.

"Come up with me," he called down.

"The things I do for you at two AM," Nico grumbled, but following him nevertheless. Will reached the top, crawling into the small treehouse with no problem. A few seconds later, the wood floor creaked as Nico stepped in.

It wasn't anything fancy, despite the fact that Hephaestus kids had made it. It'd been about four or five years since it'd been built. There was a small wraparound, and in the cabin, there were two beds, a small desk and chair, some really cool lighting features, and shelves filled with board games and journals and stuff.

It was dubbed 'The Couple Cabin.' Originally, Beckendorf had made it for Silena so they could spend time together. After finding out about it, other campers started sneaking in for date nights or ditching camp activities to hang out in it. He'd had his fair share of seeing campers heading into the forest to come here (Percy and Annabeth used to come here _all the time, _gods), and now he was actually doing it.

"What _is _this place?"

"It's the, er, Couple Cabin. Campers always snuck up here."

"Oh," Nico said, sounding slightly surprised. He felt the blood rush to his face, and he turned, taking a seat on the one of the beds. Will patted the space next to him.

"Come on, Nico, sit." As the younger boy did, he reached over and grabbed his hand. Their fingers locked together perfectly, two matching puzzle pieces. He'd missed Nico a lot more than he'd let himself believe.

Hit with a sudden urge, he reached out and tugged Nico closer to him. He smelled like a mixture cinnamon and fresh air, and Will pressed a kiss on his head of black hair.

"You're so cute," he muttered, leaning closer and pressing another kiss on Nico's cheek. His breathing hitched slightly, and Nico turned towards him. They both fell back onto the bed, and Will kissed Nico's cheek again, closer to his lips.

"I'm not-" A sharp exhalation. "cute."

"But you _are,_" he whispered, pressing a kiss to Nico's neck and smiling against soft skin. The other boy turned to face him, kissing him full on the lips.

"If I'm cute, you're adorable, Solace," Nico mumbled, kissing him again. He sighed in content, wrapping his arms around Nico's smaller frame.

"Gods, Nico," he whispered into the darkness. "You know I love you, right?"

There. There it was - the honest truth. Great gods above, he fucking loved Nico di Angelo more than he could put in words. There was a beat of silence. He wondered if he'd spoken too soon. A sigh, and then lips against his.

"I know," Nico told him, voice cracking. "You shouldn't say things like that, Will. Don't do this to me." Will shook his head, kissing Nico.

"Gods be damned, I love you." A kiss. "I love you." Another kiss. "I _love _you."

"Okay," Nico whispered, burying his face in Will's chest. He didn't miss the fact that his shirt was starting to get wet. "Will - just hold me, please."

And so he did, though he didn't miss the fact that Nico hadn't said the same back at him.

* * *

><p><em>Oh, fuck, <em>was Will's first thought when he blinked the sunlight out of his eyes. His second thought went something like this: _Something's wrong. _

And then his brain caught up with him, and he realized he couldn't move. At all.

He was having one of his episodes, where all his muscles and joints and whatever would just lock up, and he couldn't move. Sometimes, he couldn't find the strength or energy to move.

He just _couldn't _make himself get up.

Will lay there, curled up in his bunk, staring as the sun hit dust motes floating through the air. It was these moments that terrified him the most. He couldn't move, couldn't speak. He didn't know how long it would last, or what would happen if he just closed his eyes for a few seconds.

So helpless. So.. weak. Unable to respond as people fluttered by him, whispering things and holding his hand. He didn't know if his heart would keep beating, or if his lungs would keep breathing in air.

He didn't know if these seconds would be his last, unable to do anything but stare as Thanatos stalked closer and closer. The thought weighed down on him heavily, and he struggled to breathe.

On his nightstand, the digital clock blinked. It was 5:21 AM, much earlier than his siblings usually got up at. Which meant that if he did die here, no one would know until two hours later, coming to wake him and finding..

_Think positive, _he told himself. The sunlight drew closer, washing over him and warm. He could almost imagine his father, standing over him and smiling. The rays kissed his face.

Then his frozen joints unlocked, and he let out a breath. It was over - for now. And then the pain made his body go rigid, and shudders passed through him. The breath was knocked out of him. A cold sweat popped out all over him, and he shivered.

Finally, the episode passed, and he stared at the wooden slats of the bunk bed.

_Oh, fuck, _he thought to himself. It didn't ease the weight pressing down on him, but it did make him feel a little better.

* * *

><p>He excused himself from the Campfire-Sing-a-long, bolting for his cabin. No one followed, but he could feel worried glances on his back.<p>

Will moved towards Cabin One sluggishly, pain shooting through every limb and clouding his mind. The already dark environment darkened even more, and he moved faster. _No. _

The gold-painted cabin was in sight. He gasped for air, stumbling towards it on stiff legs. _No. _

He was at the porch. _Not now. _

The door made a creaking sound as he entered, gripping the door frame tightly. His knuckles turned white from the pressure. _Please. _

Nico was already sitting on Will's bed, playing with a fistful of flowers. _Gods.. _

His heart almost gave out then. "Nico," he said, reaching out with shaking hands. The black-clad boy stood up, pressing the flowers into his outstretched hands._ I don't want to die._

"Daffodils, for sunshine and unrequited love. Meadow saffron, because my best days are dying with you. A tea rose, because I'll always remember you."

"And the last one?" he whispered, pointing at the red rose.

Nico kissed him, making the world sway with dizzying colors.

"Because I love you, you idiot," he said, his voice cracking in the middle of it. The stems of the flowers were brittle and rough against the palms of his hands. He clutched them close to him, reaching out with a hand.

"Nico," he murmured, catching the boy's jacket with his hand.

The Ghost King was already gone, the shadows growing around the spot where he'd been, and the world faded into darkness.

* * *

><p><strong>coughs. 5,384 words, damn it. **

**So again, a happy birthday to kitty! Or a sad.. birthday, sorry? I had this grand idea in my head of flowers - but I needed to go deeper - so graves.. and then Edgar Allen Poe. ****I kept the ending in my head the whole time I was writing this (which, by the way, is pretty much a week and a half). **

**Tell me what you thought of it! I worked really hard on it - and I skipped NaNo work time to write this, so it'd be greatly appreciated. **

_achieving elysuim_


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